


craving your taste under my tongue every day

by FullmetalChords



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Inspired by Art, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, the consort dimitri agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalChords/pseuds/FullmetalChords
Summary: Dimitri can't keep his hands off of Claude.Inspired bythis artby mettwurst!!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	craving your taste under my tongue every day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marlemarle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlemarle/gifts).



> look y'all... I've wanted to write thighfucking forEVER and then Marlon went and drew this for me after I won their art giveaway?? So I had no choice but to write this, finally. And also, all at once. Whoops. 
> 
> The art link is also here: https://twitter.com/rawmettwurst/status/1203092268816764928 Please support them!!
> 
> And I am @apostaroni on Twitter, if you're into that.

They were meant to change for dinner. That was all.

It’s been an unusually warm day, even for Almyra. One of the more minor governors of a nearby Almyran district has invited them for dinner, and so the two of them have been traveling to his alcazar all day, the only escort needed being an elite handful of palace guards. Two years have passed since the war, and while Claude and Dimitri are still more than capable of defending themselves on the road, decorum dictates that a king and his consort must not travel by themselves. 

So it goes.

Regardless, they have been given leave to refresh themselves before said dinner, and the pair of them head to their guest chamber immediately to do so. Dimitri can feel his shirt sticking to his skin from the sweat, still so unaccustomed to the desert heat in this region of Almyra. The only thought in his head as they step inside, at least at first, is getting on something more clean and presentable — perhaps something a bit more breathable than the Faerghus-style clothing he still wears under his armor.

But now, armor shed, and suddenly alone with his husband for the first time all day…

Dimitri suddenly finds other needs more urgent, and far more interesting.

Claude has stripped almost immediately, dropping his sirwal to the floor along with his undergarments, shamelessly bare-assed as a guest in someone else’s home. He is still wearing a pale shirt that buttons down the front, the tails of it just covering the cheeks of his ass as he reaches down to unbutton it.

Dimitri cannot help but stare, hungry, at his husband’s body on display like this. Bare, supple, and just for him. Even just looking at the person he loves — the person he sleeps beside every night, curving around him protectively — Dimitri cannot help but want. 

Claude turns, looking at Dimitri over his shoulder, and notices, because of course he does.

“Something wrong, Dima?” he asks innocently, and lifts the bottom of his shirt so that his ass might be that much more visible to him. “You seem a little distracted back there.”

Dimitri catches his eye, unamused, even as Claude looks back at him with calculated innocence, actually batting his eyelashes at Dimitri. Dimitri looks at him for a moment, serious, then turns on his heel, walking to the other side of the room.

“We are not expected for dinner immediately, correct?” he says, making his way to the window, which is hung in floor-to-ceiling red drapes. 

“No.” Dimitri snaps the curtains shut, shutting out the sunlight and any prying eyes, and he hears Claude chuckle behind him. “Not for another half hour, I’d bet.”

“Good.” Dimitri strides purposely across the room. “That means there’s plenty of time for me to have you.”

He wastes no further time as he bends down to catch Claude’s clever mouth in a fierce, bruising kiss. Claude responds in kind, opening his mouth for Dimitri’s tongue and rising onto the balls of his feet to undo Dimitri’s hair tie, letting his long hair fall into his face. A long day’s ride has left them both exhausted, yes, but Dimitri’s faced far worse than exhaustion to be with Claude. 

“Nn…” Claude moans, gripping Dimitri’s wrist where it’s latched onto his hip, covering his hand with his. “We don’t have… that much time…”

“I don’t care.” Dimitri is already reaching for his belt, undoing the buckle with one hand and opening the fly to take out his cock, which is already dripping. “Need you. It’s been too long…”

“Hah…” Claude turns around, spreading his legs just slightly so he can make a space for Dimitri between them. “Dunno if this is enough for you, when you get like this…”

“Everything you offer me is enough.”

It’s true, of course; but Claude is right, too. Sometimes when he and Claude are together in their bed, Dimitri finds it difficult to hold back, to stop, especially when Claude might be even more insatiable than he himself is. The two of them have practiced so much restraint in their lives, have hidden so much of themselves from the world; but when they are together, there is no need to continue doing so. And so sex, for the two of them, is never a brief affair, often lasting late into the night as they continue to reconnect and reaffirm one another. 

Still, they find little ways to find some brief release, even when both of them want more. Dimitri does so now, easing his cock into the space between Claude’s plush thighs, feeling Claude clench around him. 

“Come on now.” Claude reaches behind him to stroke Dimitri’s hair. “I’m ready. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Dimitri thrusts forward, his dick rubbing against the underside of Claude’s, and they both moan, Claude redoubling his grip on Dimitri’s wrist while bracing his free hand against the wall. Dimitri’s hands find Claude’s hips again, holding him close as he continues thrusting, his pants still open around his hips. 

It’s mad, having sex like this within minutes of entering someone else’s home. Several years ago, he never would have stood for it. But Claude does this to him, undoes all his inhibitions, showing him the way for him to have everything he craves and leading him there by the hand. 

“Ah…” Claude sighs as Dimitri’s lips find his neck, pressing against his king’s pulse point. “No marks this time, my lion. I’m sorry. They’ll be harder to cover if they’re fresh.”

He really does sound sorry about it, and Dimitri chuckles against his skin.

“Are you quite certain you wish to go unadorned in the face of someone as… prominent… as Kassim?”

His teeth tease the skin at Claude’s neck, knowing how sensitive he is, and enjoys the way Claude gasps and squirms in his grip, getting the stimulation he currently lacks. Still, he obeys Claude’s request, soothing over the spot with a kiss and hooking his chin over his husband’s shoulder. Concentrates on the way his cock feels sliding between Claude’s thighs, the way Claude clenches them around him. Loses himself, however briefly, in another fantasy of kneeling between Claude’s legs and having those thighs close around his face, keeping him close and well fed as he goes down on Claude for the rest of the evening. 

“Goddess,” he gasps, fucking him all the harder now, “can’t we… spend all night just like this…?” His fingers dig into Claude’s thigh, and he hears his husband laugh with a moan. 

“I wish…” Dimitri redoubles his movements, and Claude lets out a sharp gasp. “Wish we could… Dima…”

Dimitri’s orgasm is torn from him by surprise, and he bites down on the cloth of Claude’s shirt to muffle the sounds he knows he’s been making. Claude catches it in his palm, moving his hand to jerk himself off with Dimitri’s come, and Dimitri watches him, too tired to participate, too full of wonder to do anything but watch his husband come half a minute later, their seed mixing together in the palm of his hand. 

“You came so quickly,” he murmurs, kissing Claude’s cheek, his jawline. His arms are wrapped around Claude’s middle, and he hears his husband laugh, sounding breathless.

“You got me most of the way there.” He brings his hand up to his mouth, presumably to clean it, but Dimitri leans forward to kiss the palm of Claude’s soiled hand. He cleans Claude’s hand carefully, methodically, savoring the moment even though he cannot taste them together, gratified enough by the feeling of having part of Claude inside him. 

Claude’s breath hitches at the sight of him licking his hand clean, his spent cock twitching.

“Skies above,” Claude breathes. “You can’t just do that, Dima. We’ve still got dinner with that governor in a bit. The one whose home we _just fucked in_.”

“Mmmm.” Dimitri’s tongue laps at the pulse point on Claude’s wrist, leaving Claude even more flushed than before. “And what a lovely aperitif I’ve had. Won’t you have some, my beloved?”

Claude snorts. “You can’t even taste it, darling.” But he leans up and kisses Dimitri regardless, deep and long, in a way that tells Dimitri that if they did not have imminent duties to attend to, Claude would lay him out on this bed right now, diplomatic mission or no, and continue to have his way with him.

He finds himself more than slightly put out that they cannot do so right now, continuing what he has started. 

Regretfully, it seems, Claude pulls away with one last kiss. 

“Hey, Dima.” He winks up at him as he continues to undo the buttons of his shirt, finally leaving it hanging open. “Think you can hold it together for a few minutes while I put some decent clothes on?”

Dimitri leans against the wall, only adjusting his clothing enough to tuck his cock back inside his pants. 

“I will certainly try.”

He watches Claude strip his shirt off his shoulders, drinking in every detail of him despite already being overly familiar with his body. Claude heads to their trunk, picks out a fresh pair of sirwal and getting out a particularly regal, flowing shirt to wear with it. Dimitri supposes Claude has to make a good impression, being the royal guest of honor at this meeting-or-whatever-it-is, but he can only feel faint regret that Claude is choosing to clothe himself again. Which, of course, Claude notices.

“Aw, baby.” He crosses the room, kissing Dimitri’s cheek. “Just an hour, all right? You don’t even have to come, if you’d prefer to stay here.” He winks at him. “And think about me.”

Dimitri just looks at him, feeling an acute sense of longing. 

“And be away from your side for an hour?” He clucks his tongue, shaking his head. “I won’t have it.”

He heads to their trunk as well, removing his traveling clothes which are now far less presentable than they were before they’d started, and dons clothing similar to Claude’s, loose and flowing, a beautiful pattern of blue and gold silk. There’s still more than enough room for him to keep a dagger hidden, lest this governor try anything at dinner. 

“Very well,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s get this meeting over with, I suppose.”

He can put up with any unpleasantness for an hour, so long as Claude is with him. 

And should his and Claude’s thighs brush at dinner, a prelude for the hours in this room yet to come… he supposes their hosts will simply have to endure. 

\--


End file.
